


Potter's Insatiable Cock

by FleetofShippyShips



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Blow Jobs, Draco has no idea what he signed up for, First Time, Frottage, HP: EWE, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Loss of Virginity, Low Refractory Period, M/M, Open Ending, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Hogwarts, Rimming, Virgin Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 21:47:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10500105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetofShippyShips/pseuds/FleetofShippyShips
Summary: Potter comes out and starts frequenting gay wizarding clubs. Only, he can't seem to find anyone to hold his interest, much to Draco's ongoing amusement, until one night things become clearer, and he has a proposition for Draco.Basically: Harry Potter is a virgin, and he wants Draco to rid him of his virginity.





	

Draco snorted into his drink. It was inelegant, and beneath him, but he just couldn’t help it. The man Potter had disappeared into the bathroom with had come back out looking dissatisfied and downcast. Potter followed a few moments later, face bright red and shoulders hunched over.

Third failure that night.

It was driving him mad, wondering exactly what was going on in that bathroom. Watching Potter’s inept flirting with men in the club was amusing enough, but he imagined what was happening in the bathroom was better.

Potter, in his usual Gryffindor rush of stupid bravery without forethought, had come out only weeks before. Since then, Draco had seen him frequently in various wizarding clubs that catered to them, and mostly in Archie’s, which was his favourite haunt. Potter was always on the prowl, but, apparently, never satisfied.

The stupid git probably couldn’t get it up.

Turning sharply to face the bar again, he was close enough to where Potter sat a moment later, that he could hear his weary sigh. No, he could feel it. A familiar sound to anyone who’d had a disappointing encounter.

“The usual?” Archie asked, his voice gentle with obvious sympathy.

“Double,” Potter muttered.

Draco cast a sideways look at him. He was slumped over the bar and clearly hadn’t noticed him yet. Every time he caught sight of Draco in the clubs these days, his posture straightened and he got that familiar defiant expression. Like he was trying to prove something, but also like he didn’t give a damn what Draco really thought. Some things never changed.

There was a sudden thud on the other side of Draco. Turning, he raised an eyebrow at the young wizard who was leaning too close to him. Too young. Probably still in Hogwarts and using an enhanced magical age signature to gain access to Archie’s, and far too much nerve. Gryffindor, no doubt.

Gryffindors always seemed to get off on his reputation and past.

“Find someone your own age,” he said shortly, before taking his drink and wandering off.

Watching Potter’s misery wasn’t worth some teenager trying ineptly to get into his pants. His ten-year probation wasn’t over, and he was neither interested nor a fool. There was a much more age-appropriate wizard giving him the eye from across the dance floor, and Draco smirked to himself as he made his way over.

***

“There are potions for that, you know” Draco said, looking at Potter’s red face through the mirror.

Potter jerked violently, his eyes finding Malfoy as yet another failed conquest left the bathroom. It had been two weeks since he’d seen Potter last. After Blaise’s nagging about ‘appropriate’ use of his time had gotten just too irritating to deal with, and he’d forgone clubbing for a time. He was surprised to find Potter still failing in the clubs. Surely someone would maintain his interest, or he would maintain theirs. Whichever way the failure was stemming from.

He trailed his gaze over Potter’s reflection, taking in the hasty rebuttoning of his jeans, the zipper still undone. Well that answered part of his question. He was either failing completely, or finishing far too soon.

It was surprising that whatever it was hadn’t made it to the papers yet.

“Yeah, Polyjuice,” Potter muttered, joining him at the sink and shoving him roughly aside.

Draco scowled and shoved him back. “I see you’ve learnt no manners since Hogwarts.”

“I see you’re still an entitled, poncy git,” Potter snapped back.

It sent a thrill through Draco to be arguing with Potter again. He’d missed it.

“I always knew you were a stupid sod, but perhaps you’re not so completely dense,” he observed, watching the way Potter’s hands were shaking. “Your own cock’s not working, get another. Tacky, but effective. Unless the problem is mental, rather than physical.”

Potter, rather than shoving him and spitting vitriol like he’d expected, just slumped.

“Piss off,” he muttered, with no bite whatsoever.

Draco’s spirits sank. Teasing Potter when he wouldn’t fight back was no fun at all.

“This is a club, Potter,” he said, running his eyes over him and taking the opportunity to take in the delightful curve of Potter’s arse up close while he wasn’t watching. For being an annoying little shit, he certainly was well formed. “Take your sorry mood elsewhere. There may be others who would rush at you, begging to make you feel better when you look like that, but I’m not one of them.”

Potter tensed, and then turned to meet his eye. His expression was completely unexpected. Draco swallowed and fought the urge to step back. He knew that expression all too well from school. The git was planning something brave and stupid.

Anger burst through him, powerful and wild. If the git thought for one second that Draco would allow himself to be bullied into a fight that would break his probation, he was sorely mistaken.

“Are you deaf? Piss off!”

“You still hate me, don’t you?” Potter asked, turning to face him now, leaning one hip against the sink in an oddly casual posture. He was completely calm in the wake of Draco snapping angrily at him, and it didn’t help Draco’s mood at all.

“Please. Hate requires too much thought and effort these days. You aren’t worth my time.”

Rather than look angry or downtrodden, Potter looked inexplicably pleased. His posture straightened, and he lost all of the misery that had been radiating from him since stepping out of the toilet stall.

Angered that he’d somehow pleased the git, Draco smoothed down his shirt and shot him the snidest look he could manage.

“Your zipper is still down, you stupid twat,” he sneered, then moved to leave.

Potter shot out an arm to stop him. Draco froze and looked down at the offending appendage, pressing against his chest. He looked to the side and fixed Potter with a scowl.

“There may be others who go weak from the slightest brush of your skin, Potter, but I’m not one of them. Get your arm away from me.”

“You used to take a lot of satisfaction in tormenting me,” Potter said slowly, not moving his arm at all, but stepping closer instead. “How would you like to take something from me again?”

Draco frowned, not following. He pushed Potter’s arm away, but didn’t leave. Potter was up to something. It was almost like he was hitting on him. But they’d just reaffirmed their distaste for one another, so it couldn’t be that.

“How much have you had to drink?” he asked. “You’re completely nonsensical.”

“I’m asking if you want to fuck me, Malfoy. Aren’t Slytherins supposed to be good at subtlety?”

Draco’s mouth instantly became a desert. His felt his expression change against his will. His eyes widened, his mouth dropped open. Potter couldn’t actually mean that.

Only…only he had that expression Draco knew all too well. Foolish bravery and stubbornness. It was in the set of his jaw, the fire in his eyes. He knew that expression better than any other. Potter was completely serious.

“You’re mental,” he muttered, ignoring the burst of heat in his groin. He hadn’t had someone act quite so bold in a while. It was a weakness for him, the lack of prevarication. Flirting was in itself obvious, but it was still a pain after a while. To have someone blatantly ask for a fuck? It made Draco’s cock throb.

That it was Potter doing the asking had him half-mast almost immediately.

“I’m sick of being fawned over,” Potter said, stepping closer. His hands were still shaking, but otherwise, he looked completely confident and at ease. That only made Draco’s groin throb more. Merlin, when had Potter become so sexy? “You won’t fawn over me. You’re more likely to insult me.”

“Go find someone else,” Draco said, the aching of his cock making him regret every word. What would that be like? To have Harry bloody Potter? To bend over the man he’d spent so many years hating and fuck him into the mattress. “Go back to whoever did it last, if you didn’t disappoint them like everyone else you drag in here.”

Potter’s expression tightened. “You think I’ve managed to get fucked? I’ve seen you watching and laughing. Don’t play dumb, it makes you boring. You made a quip about the fact I can’t stay hard with them just before. They start in on what I’ve done, and who I am, and I just—”

“Wilt,” Draco finished for him, his eyes wide. Well, that cleared that up.

With a sharp nod, and an even tenser jaw, Potter stepped back.

Draco’s mind was whirling. Potter was a virgin. Potter was a virgin, and he was asking Draco to fuck him. That made his cock twitch. A moment later, and it twitched all the harder. If he did that, Potter would _never_ forget it. No one ever forgot their first shag. It was one of those unavoidable things in life. He could burn himself into Potter’s brain, _and_ get a fuck out it.

It didn’t matter that he despised the git, he had a fine arse. His face wasn’t so bad either.

Who was Draco kidding? The git was fucking gorgeous. It only made him that much more irritating. He shouldn’t be that attractive, shabby as he was. He shouldn’t be that attractive with all the bad history between them. But he was asking for Draco press him face down into a mattress and take his virginity away.

“Fuck.”

He didn’t even realise he’d said that aloud until some of the tension in Potter’s expression eased.

“Think you can?”

The teasing tone of his voice made Draco’s body sing. It made him ache with the desire to take Potter and show him just how well he could do it. Merlin, he could set Potter up for sexual failure. For a long while yet, anyone else he had would be giddy with the fact they were buggering the Boy Who Lived. They wouldn’t be their best selves with him, and nowhere near Draco’s standard. Draco could make him dissatisfied for months, just from fucking him once.

“I’m not the one who can’t maintain an erection,” he said snidely, moving suddenly, backing Potter up against the counter and letting him feel just how true that was.

Potter’s breath hitched, a sharp sound that made Draco’s groin ache. His hands landed on Draco’s hips, but he didn’t push him away. He dug his fingers in and looked at him with wide eyes.

For a moment, Draco hesitated. As much as he despised Potter, and wouldn’t mind fucking him so he would never forget, he had absolutely no desire for him if he was only forcing himself to do it to lose his virginity. The idea was inherently distasteful. Draco had no hang ups about his own first time. He’d managed to talk Theo into it during their seventh year at Hogwarts, aching to feel something other than the misery of the castle, and everything he’d done. Theo had been adamant he wasn’t even interested in men, but he’d managed, even enjoyed it. Although he’d been weird around him for weeks afterwards and tried to deny it meant anything. Still, Draco had no regrets.

But he wanted no such managing from Potter. He wanted Potter to want it. He wanted Potter to think of his first time and ache with desire and embarrassment from just how much he’d enjoyed it, and just how much he’d wanted Draco to do it. He wanted Potter’s loathing for him to be forever tainted by that desire. He wanted it burned into his brain.

It was the ultimate revenge against the boy he’d hated for so many years. The boy who’d saved his life, and maybe his soul.

“You want me to fuck you?” he asked, softly, leaning close. Close enough to kiss.

Potter’s breathing was rapid already. He was so close, and so hot, it made Draco’s cock ache all the more. He’d have to do something about that, before they got started. It wouldn’t do to spoil his plans by coming too quickly.

Potter nodded.

“You want me to take you my bed, turn you over, and work you open?” Draco asked, lowering his tone.

A delightful little sound escaped Potter’s throat. Like a soft whine, and Draco could feel him hardening against him. The self-control it took to stay still and not rut against him was immense. He gripped the counter on either side of Potter’s hips and kept their eyes locked together. He never would have thought Potter could be just so alluring.

“You want me to be the first person inside you, Potter?” he said, trying to say his name like he always had, but failing utterly. He knew he was gone. He wanted it. He wanted it so badly he was aching. Burning himself into Potter’s brain as his first, Potter would never be able to hate him the same way again, and he’d be furious about it later, when he realised.

Potter squeezed his eyes shut, his breathing ragged, his cock now hard and firm against Draco. Unable to help himself, Draco rocked against him, just once. The moan that spilled from Potter’s lips made him close the distance and kiss him, trying to swallow it, own it.

Had Potter even managed to get this hard with the others? At what point did the stupid twats start fawning over his defeat of the Dark Lord? Idiots.

Breaking the kiss sooner than he’d have liked, he grabbed Potter’s hips and side-along Apparated him.

When they landed in his flat, Potter nearly fell over and Malfoy couldn’t help but laugh at him. They were in his lounge, and he stepped back, forcing himself to breathe. He wanted to bend Potter over the couch, work him open, and force him to make that moaning sound again. But not yet.

“Care for a drink?” he asked.

Potter looked around warily, running a shaking hand through his hair, before reaching down and adjusting himself with a soft sigh. He looked relieved to find himself still hard, and it sent a thrill through Draco.

“No. Is this the manor?”

A seeping cold rushed through Draco at the idea that he would take Potter there. He wasn’t that cruel. At least, not anymore.

“No. It’s a flat in muggle London. I only stay at the manor on weekends,” he said curtly.

Potter met his eyes and Draco knew he understood that he’d been kind. It was Saturday after all. Perhaps he shouldn’t have said that bit about weekends. Potter would think he cared. He only wanted to git to stay hard. The manor would probably have him wilting faster than those failures he dragged into the bathrooms at Archie’s.

Before either of them could talk further, Draco stepped up to him again and pulled him into a kiss. Potter made a startled sound, but kissed back eagerly enough. Too eagerly.

Pulling back and scowling, Draco thumbed at his lips. “Who taught you to kiss? They should be hexed. Viciously. You’re awful at it.”

Potter’s face turned red and angry. With a smirk, Draco kissed him again before he could speak. Unlike before, Potter was more restrained, hesitant. It sent a thrill through Draco, right down to his groin, and he slid his hands into Potter’s ridiculous, messy hair. Potter was listening to what he said and actually doing something about it.

Merlin, he’d been planning on getting Potter off before shagging him anyway, knowing he’d easily be able to get hard again just because he was so inexperienced. Now he was sure he’d have to get off as well. Potter’s inexperience was far more arousing than it had any right to be.

With a groan he couldn’t restrain, he reached down, gripped Potter’s hips, and pulled them together. Potter turned his head out of the kiss, gasping and clutching at Draco’s back. His brows were furrowed together in pleasure, and the sight was dizzying, but interrupted by those awful glasses. Draco made an annoyed sound and plucked them off his face as he shuffled them backwards.

Potter made a weak sound at the loss, but fixed Draco with that annoyingly vibrant green, uninterrupted by glass. Draco hated that green. Perhaps because it was so Slytherin, and a complete travesty that it was sported by a Gryffindor.

“You’re a right bastard,” Potter said.

Draco frowned, taking a moment to realise what he was referring to, since he knew the git could see well enough if what he was looking at was close enough. When he did realise what he was talking about, he sniggered. The delayed response was incredibly flattering. Too desperate to keep kissing him, even after the insult. With a smug smile, he gave Potter a push so he fell back onto the couch.

Sitting there, hair mussed, mouth open with heavy breaths, hard cock straining within his tight jeans, Potter was a vision. It made Draco a bit angry with himself for finding him just so attractive.

“Excellent. Still up, I see,” he said gleefully, enjoying the way Potter’s posture stiffened. “Even with that dismal kissing.”

“You little—”

Draco didn’t get to find out what pathetic insult Potter had dredged up from his inadequate brain. He’d straddled his lap, tilted his hips down, and rocked against him. Potter’s words were lost to a startled moan. Draco smirked and kissed it from his lips, rocking his hips again.

He was too far gone to give Potter the shag that would stay with him no matter who else he had. And Potter was too far gone not to come the moment Draco got a couple of fingers inside him.

Thank Merlin they were still young.

“I have a challenge for you,” he said, turning Potter’s head aside and breathing into his ear. “I’ll give you one minute of this.” Pointedly, he rocked his hips harder and grinned at the way Potter’s hands landed on his hips again, his grip painfully tight. “See if you can last that full minute and not come in your pants like a thirteen-year-old. If you manage to last, I’ll get on my knees and blow you.”

Potter made a strangled sound, his hands spasming on Draco’s hips. Smirking to himself, Draco kissed the skin under his ear. He didn’t bother counting. Potter wasn’t going to make it.

“You won’t believe how that feels,” he said, before sucking at a spot under his jaw.

It only took two more thrusts of his hips before Potter was convulsing under him.

Draco tore his mouth away to watch his face. It made him skirt the edge himself, to know that no one else had seen that. The way Potter’s brows were furrowed, face flushed pink and contorted in pleasure, head arched back. The sounds he made were unbelievable. So unrestrained. Draco supposed he was too surprised by the new sensation of having someone else pressed against him as he came to think of muffling himself.

Still rocking against him, working him through it, he felt his own orgasm close, but not close enough. The novelty of Potter’s virginity was enough to bring him closer to the edge far sooner than he had in a long time, his cock aching something fierce, but it wasn’t quite enough to offset his experience. As Potter relaxed again, he let his hips still and thought about what to do.

He wouldn’t last long enough to give Potter a good fuck. He knew his limits, and Potter’s virginal arse would be too much for him, aching as he was now. Imagining the way Potter would react and respond to having fingers and cock inside him for the first time already had Draco shaking with need. And the fact it was Potter. The satisfaction of knowing the experience would never leave Potter’s mind was like a drug.

It was Potter’s first time going that far with anyone, he knew. Still, he hesitated from asking Potter to touch him. He didn’t want to admit to him that he needed to take the edge off.

“Shit,” Potter said breathlessly, letting Draco’s hips go to run a shaking hand through his hair again. There was hardly any point, it just fell into disarray again the moment his hand left it.

“Don’t worry,” Draco said. “If you’re a good boy, I might still blow you later.”

All at once, Potter tensed, his face twisting.

“Don’t talk to me like that.”

Meeting his eyes, Draco saw unveiled disgust there. Some of those men Potter had taken to bathrooms had probably assumed he’d have a praise kink after everything he’d done. Potter obvious had gone through enough to not hesitate in reacting to such words.

“No praise at all? Or no praise like that?” he asked seriously. “Can I compliment you? Or does that turn you off as well?”

That was perhaps something he should have asked from the outset. Potter had told him that men fawning over him made his cock wilt. He should have known better. What he’d said was a joke, but now he had the notion he might end up spilling some compliments later, when Potter was stretched out under him. It was something he’d found since he’d been with more people after Theo. He couldn’t stop himself from complementing the people he was with during sex. He wanted his partners satisfied more than just physically. Their expressions after hearing such words from him never ceased to make heat course through him.

It probably wouldn’t be too difficult for him to turn reassurances into backhanded compliments, but he didn’t want Potter to lose his erection in the middle of sex because he’d said the wrong thing. He’d never had anyone leave his bed unsatisfied before, and he wasn’t about to start now.

Potter’s face flushed red. “Like that,” he muttered. “Probably the rest. I don’t know. You’re you. You’ll probably insult me and compliment me all in one breath.”

“Heard what a good boy you are too often in life to enjoy it during sex?” Draco asked, unable to stop himself. His cock was starting to ache less, so perhaps if they kept talking he wouldn’t need to take the edge off after all.

“Yes, for things I should never have had to do,” Potter replied, his voice tight and his expression dark.

Draco shivered. “Well,” he said, trying to dispel the tension, “I always thought you were a nasty little shit. You won’t hear me praising you like that. You were a spoilt little brat then and you probably still are. The last thing you need is a good stroke to your ego.”

Potter’s posture relaxed, and he looked back at Draco with an angry expression. Draco could tell immediately that it was forced. Potter was unable to hide the relief and gratitude he felt at Draco’s words. It made Draco uneasy. Until he realised how much better it would make everything.

Potter would never forget Draco if he catered to that well enough, and Draco might just stay his best shag for longer than he’d anticipated. The satisfaction from that thought had his cock aching all over again. Potter didn’t realise it now, but later, he’d hate that.

“Well then,” he said, seeing a way to take off the edge without losing face. Potter would probably think it was because of his discomfort. “You sure you don’t want that drink? You’re looking a bit miserable now.”

As he spoke, and lowered a hand to press against his own cock through his trousers. Eyes fluttering shut a moment, he bit his lip. He needed it. Potter was nothing like he had expected.

“I thought you were going to fuck me.”

Draco opened his eyes to see Potter was looking at his hand as he rubbed and pressed at himself through his trousers.

“Don’t you want to see what you’re going to get, before you get it?” he said lewdly, before starting to undo his trousers.

Potter’s breath hitched and his hands clutched at Draco’s hips again. He was going to have bruises by morning, but he rather liked the thought of that.

He could almost feel the weight of Potter’s gaze, as he shoved his trousers and pants down as far as he could over his hips while remaining on Potter’s lap. Potter’s hands shifted to stay on his hips and Draco could feel the bite of his nails, just a little. He thought of mentioning it, then decided not to. He liked Potter’s unrestrained reactions, they were incredibly flattering.

“What are you going...”

Draco answered Potter’s question by taking his own cock in hand and giving it a lazy stroke. Potter’s eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat as his words died. His nails dug a little deeper into Draco’s hips, and he hissed. Rather than tell him to stop, he leaned forward and kissed him. Potter barely kissed back before pulling his head away to watch again.

“You can do more than watch, you know,” Draco groaned

The bite of Potter’s nails on his hips increased, before they slid away.

“I want you to fuck me though.”

Draco snorted. “Don’t be a silly twat. Sex is about more than just cock in arse.”

Potter’s face reddened, alarmingly fast. He loved how fast Potter showed his anger or embarrassment. He’d loved it in school when it always gave him the reaction he was after, but he liked it even more now.

“But—”

“But nothing. Don’t worry your stupid little head about it,” Draco said, his tone too taken by pleasure for his words to sound as mean as he wanted them to. “I’ll get hard again easily enough when I have you face down and fucking yourself on my fingers.”

“Fuck, Malfoy,” Potter breathed, eyes wide, and still fixed on where he was stroking his cock.

“Oh I will, Potter. Later.”

A hand suddenly grabbed his wrist, stopping him. Draco whined before he could stop himself.

“Do you mind?” he asked. “I was enjoying that.”

“Sex is about more than just cock in arse,” Potter said shakily repeating Draco’s words almost like a mantra, tugging his hand away and then replacing it with his own.

Draco’s hips jerked before he could stop himself as he was gripped by that shaky, nervous hand. Had Potter not even managed that with all those men? Had he not even got a hand down their pants before their praise had wilted his cock and sickened him into walking away? Merlin, was his the first cock Potter had touched besides his own?

Closing his eyes tight, he fought to hold on. That idea took him dangerously close to the edge. Merlin. He had a virgin kink. A fucking virgin kink. And probably the most virginal virgin he’d ever seen underneath him, with a hand on his cock.

“Fuck!” he hissed. Too late. He arched his back and held onto Potter’s shoulders as his orgasm burst through him. He closed his eyes, more from embarrassment than pleasure. He hadn’t come that quickly from having someone wank him in years. He was going to have to think of something to say so Potter didn’t—

Draco lost his train of thought as Potter grabbed a fistful of his hair with his free hand and pulled him down for a kiss. The action was so abrupt and surprising that he didn’t even get angry about having his hair pulled so hard. Once again, Potter’s inexperience was showing, but Draco was still coming down from his orgasm and hardly cared. It only added to the experience.

He could only grip Potter’s shoulders tightly and breathe heavily through his nose as Potter devoured his mouth. There was really no other word for it. Devoured. It should have been off putting. It made him moan instead.

When he finally knocked Potter’s hand away and tore their mouths apart, Potter only stared up at him with wide eyes and a heaving chest.

“Bloody hell, Malfoy.”

“Close your mouth, Potter,” Draco said, pressing two fingers under his chin to start to do it for him. “There’s no need to remind me you’re a slob.”

Potter’s jaw snapped shut with a click, and his brow furrowed in a glare. Draco sniggered and pulled his wand free from the holster hidden under his left sleeve. Taunting Potter would never stop being so satisfying.

With as little fuss as possible, he cleaned them both up and then returned it to its place.

“Care for that drink now?” he asked, as he gracefully removed himself from Potter’s lap and pulled his pants and trousers back up. “Or would you rather move this straight to the bedroom?”

Potter blinked at him, starting to look overwhelmed as annoyance disappeared from his expression. Draco smiled slowly. Just a bit of frottage and wanking, and Potter was already a mess. Draco couldn’t wait to have him spread out naked on his bed. It would take him a long time to find anyone to live up to legacy Draco was going to leave him with.

He could only hope he would be able to witness some of Potter’s irritation when he realised this himself.

“You just came,” Potter said, sounding shocked.

“We’ve been over this. Do I need to draw you some sort of chart?” Draco quipped. Leaning over, he grabbed two fistfuls of Potter’s shirt to pull him to his feet. “Sex is about more than just cock in arse. It’s called foreplay. We have plenty to do while we wait for our cocks to catch up.”

Potter scowled. “You’re such a bloody wanker.”

Draco ran slid his hands down Potter’s chest. He could feel firm muscle under his shirt, and was thrilled to know he’d see it soon. He’d heard that Potter had ranked highest in his class at Auror training for physical conditioning, before he’d left to do whatever it was he was doing now. He always seemed between things. No one could keep up with him. Last he’d heard, Potter was helping Longbottom set up a plant nursery.

“Isn’t that why you asked me to be the one to fuck you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Potter stared at him. He didn’t seem to have a reply, and the silence became awkward. Draco sighed and caught the bottom of Potter’s shirt to slide his hands underneath. They weren’t in his flat to talk, and talking would only ruin everything. They didn’t like each other. That was the point. It was easy enough to have sex with someone you didn’t like, if there was chemistry, and that odd sort of respect they still had for each other as minor adversaries.

They certainly had more than enough chemistry.

It was obvious that Potter was now realising how stupid the idea was, losing his virginity to someone he didn’t even like. That he hadn’t left, that he’d asked Draco at all, showed just how desperate he was to finally be rid of his virginity.

“Maybe you should have that drink.”

“I want to be sober for this,” Potter said tersely. “Otherwise, what’s the point?”

Draco met his eyes as he smoothed his hands up his sides, enjoying the feel of his warm skin. Potter shivered and swayed forward slightly.

“What is the point, exactly?” Draco asked, knowing he’d probably regret the question. “Are you that desperate for a shag that you’d turn to me? Are you really unable to get it up for anyone else? That’s bloody pathetic, Potter.”

“You don’t thank me for everything I did,” Potter murmured, closing his eyes as Draco’s hands slid around to map his back. “You don’t ask me questions about what I did, and what I went through. Thinking about the war is what makes me wilt. Not the men. I liked the men, before they opened their mouths and worshiped me.”

Draco bit his lip, and then leaned forward, nudging Potter’s head to the side to get at his neck. Potter made a soft, sighing sound as Draco kissed and then sucked. His hands fell once more to Draco hips, to the same place he’d probably already left bruises and nail marks.

It was on the tip of his tongue to say he’d rather worship Potter’s body than him, but that was a rather embarrassing thing to say, as true as it was. From the feel of him, Potter was going to look fantastic. Draco had always been unable to keep from telling his partners that they looked or felt good, but Potter? Potter was in a whole other category. More so because of their past and how much it was affecting Draco to know he was the first to have him. That Potter was able to sustain an erection but come for him when he hadn’t for anyone else? Even though he obviously still despised him?

That power made Draco’s body sing and his hands tremble.

“Are you going to hunt down every man who doesn’t worship you?” Draco asked, pulling back when Potter’s grip on his hips started to get too tight. The poor twat didn’t know how to handle his arousal, and Draco pried his hands off him. “Every time you want a shag? Why not just go muggle?”

Potter’s expression made it plain he hadn’t thought about that at all. Draco snorted and gripped his wrist tightly. In the next moment, they were in his bedroom, and Potter was swaying from the abrupt Apparition. Draco only needed to give him a little nudge and he fell back onto the bed. At the same time, Draco drew his wand again and banished his clothes.

Even though he’d relished the idea of stripping Potter himself, he could see how easily they might stumble into a verbal argument and forgo sex completely. He had to keep them on track, and keep them physical.

Potter yelped as his clothes disappeared, his hands flying instinctively down to cover himself. Draco snorted and then banished his own clothes. He had also looked forward to teasing Potter with his own strip, but he didn’t want to waste time. He wasn’t hard, but he hardly cared. He left his wand holster on, as it covered his Dark Mark, something he didn’t let people see often. Sheathing his wand again, he ran his eyes over Potter.

As he’d felt under his shirt, the git was remarkable. After leaving the Aurors, he must have kept up his physical training to look like that. He’d been so skinny and scrawny in Hogwarts, and in a way, he was still small now. But what frame he had was filled with well-toned muscle. He was still covering himself, and Draco felt a twinge of unease.

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if he was okay, but that wasn’t why Potter wanted him. He didn’t want concern and caring. He wanted someone who didn’t like him. And while that was true, and he didn’t like the git, he wasn’t heartless. He didn’t want him scared while they did this. He wanted Potter to remember it always as an experience others would have a hard time beating.

He wanted to ruin Potter for other men.

It was only when Potter’s eyes landed on his chest, and widened, that he remembered. The scars.

There were only three of them, but they were wide, and stood out plainly. They had never faded, but stayed pink instead. He was so pale they might as well have been neon. They were never a big deal, anyone he was with merely assumed he’d got them being a Death Eater. He’d never told anyone it was Potter. He wasn’t sure why.

How could he have been stupid enough to forget them? That wasn’t going to help Potter with his difficulty maintaining an erection.

With a sigh, he pulled his wand free again and summoned his shirt. Potter watched him put it on without comment, his eyes following Draco’s hands as he did up each button. Dark plum purple. At least it looked good on him. Tight and fitted. Probably better for Potter than a pale chest littered with scars made by his hand.

For all that Potter despised him, Draco didn’t even doubt for a moment that he would hate looking at the scars. Sheathing his wand, Draco crawled onto the bed, until he was over Potter, balancing on his knees.

Potter lay back and stared up at him with an unsure expression on his face. Draco waited, but no words were forthcoming. It was only then that he realised he’d wanted Potter to tell him to leave his shirt off. Why, he couldn’t begin to guess. He supposed he wasn’t used to having to cover himself up for sex.

“So, how uneducated are you exactly?” Draco asked, aiming to ease the tension. He shifted and settled for straddling Potter’s thighs. “When it comes to foreplay?”

Potter scowled, but it was only half-hearted. His eyes kept darting to Draco’s chest, and Draco knew he was still thinking about that day in the bathroom. Sighing, Draco realised it was unavoidable.

“I didn’t think,” he said gently. “I wouldn’t have taken my shirt off if I’d remembered.”

No matter what he thought of the git personally, Potter was in his bed. Their history didn’t matter now, only their mutual pleasure. Part of that pleasure was giving Potter what he wanted, and maintaining that less than friendly dynamic, which was luckily what he wanted himself, and part of it was his selfish desire to seek revenge by spoiling sex with others for him. But first and foremost, Potter had to be happy and safe.

No one left Draco’s bed unsatisfied.

“I didn’t…” Potter finally looked up and met his eyes. He looked vulnerable, and hurt. That wasn’t what anyone should look like in his bed, and Draco felt his stomach drop. “I didn’t know it scarred.”

Before he could stop himself, Draco reached out, and brushed a finger against Potter’s famous scar. “Dark magic leaves scars.”

Potter’s breath hitched, and he caught Draco’s wrist. “I didn’t think you’d care to cover them,” he said, his voice stronger than his expression. “Going soft on me, Malfoy?”

Draco smirked, finding a way to move them away from memories he’d rather forget.

“That’s _your_ problem, remember? That’s why you’re here.”

Potter scowled, but didn’t let go of his wrist. Draco tugged, but all he did was make Potter look more determined.

Switching tactics, he slammed his hand down against the mattress by Potter’s head, dragging Potter’s with it, at the same time he grabbed Potter’s other hand and slammed that down too. Potter’s grip on his wrist loosened, and Draco worked his hand free to pin that hand properly.

Leaning over him, he got a taste of what it was going to be like, to have Potter under him. If the defiant look being sent his way was any indication, it was going to be a very enjoyable night.

“Take your shirt off.”

Draco had been just about to kiss him, their lips just starting to brush, when Potter’s words made him freeze. He hovered there a moment, not sure what to do. Potter tried to free his hands for a moment, but gave up without any fight at all. Draco could tell just from eyeing up his arms that he’d be able to lift Draco off him with ease, if he wanted to. But he didn’t.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because keeping it on is stupid. Are you ashamed of them? Body conscious of a few scars?” Potter was doing an admirable effort of taunting him, but his voice was shaking. “Pathetic, Malfoy. I expected better.”

Draco pulled back enough to focus on his face and read his expression. They weren’t supposed to be doing that. Taunting yes, but addressing the shit between them? It was just meant to be about ridding Potter of his virginity. It was meant to be casual.

Although, he supposed, that was an unspoken agreement. They hadn’t actually talked about what they were doing.

“Are you sure your delicate sensibilities can take it?” he asked, trying to sneer, but hearing the seriousness in his own tone as he failed. “We’re trying to keep your cock hard, remember?”

“I said _take it off_!”

Shivers erupted over Draco at the command in Potter’s tone. His hands were moving before he gave them permission. Once he realised, he was already undoing the first button. It made him angry, how he’d just jumped to attention like that. But Potter’s expression was satisfied, as Draco sat back and revealed his chest again.

Potter shifted and shuffled, until he was no longer under Draco, but kneeling opposite him. When Draco had all the buttons undone, and was wondering why he hadn’t just banished it, Potter reached out and stopped him. With hands that were visibly shaking, he slid Draco’s shirt off his shoulders and down his arms himself, until it was off and thrown to the side.

The casual intimacy of the gesture made Draco itch. He felt distinctly wrongfooted. But then Potter’s hands were on his chest, and maybe it was worth it. As much as he teased Potter about knowing nothing about foreplay, he didn’t really relish the idea of needing to teach him everything. To a certain extent, it would be fun, but he didn’t want Potter to go away feeling like it had been instructional, rather than simply pleasurable.

“You must hate me for these,” Potter said softly.

Draco stiffened. “We’re not here to reminisce on our mistakes, Potter!” he snapped. “We’re here to fuck you into the mattress!”

Potter met his eyes, but his hands never stilled. His fingertips were tracing the scars. Draco felt no sensation from it, unless they crossed the border onto non-scarred skin. He’d had several men trace them with their tongue only to be disappointed when it did nothing for him.

“I don’t want to get shagged by someone who is hiding part of their body,” Potter said calmly, one of his hands tracing Draco’s left collarbone. “Not even you.”

Moments later, that hand was skimming down his left arm, and then resting on his wand holster.

“Take this off too.”

Draco’s breath hitched. When he did nothing, Potter started to do it himself.

With every second that passed, Draco tried to think of something to say, something cutting, painful. He tried to pull his hand away, but was somehow frozen. It had been a long time since he’d trusted someone to look under his holster.

Once all the fastenings were undone, and Potter was sliding the bracer off his forearm, Draco moved. With his right hand, he grabbed a fistful of Potter’s messy hair, and pulled him into a kiss.

The holster came free, and he added that hand to Potter’s hair too. He needed to distract him, and went at it full force. He bit and sucked at his lips, pressed their tongues together. Potter made startled, but not displeased sounds, and kissed back. When his hands found Draco’s skin, his back, clutching at him, Draco felt safe.

He slowed the kiss and let his right hand roam. He released Potter’s mouth, sucking on his bottom lip for a moment, scraping it with his teeth, before kissing a trail along his jaw. He rather liked Potter’s jaw, even though it was so often clenched as part of that annoying stubborn expression of his. He slid his hand over Potter’s torso, widely at first, and then narrowing to trace and stroke the muscles of his abdomen and chest.

As his mouth found Potter’s earlobe, he flicked it with his tongue, as he flicked a nipple with his fingertips. Potter made a surprised sound that sent shivers through Draco’s body. It was unrestrained and tainted with pleasure. Satisfied, Draco sucked his earlobe for a bit as he flicked and pinched and pressed at his nipple.

Potter either had the most sensitive nipples of any man he’d ever been with, or the experience was new enough to make it all the more intense for him. He convulsed under him, writhing, moaning. His chest was heaving, and Draco felt his cock harden far sooner than he expected.

Releasing Potter’s earlobe to kiss down his neck, he peeked down and was gratified to see Potter was hardening too. Reassured, he returned his full attention to Potter’s neck, and let his hand wander again. A displeased whine escaped Potter as soon as Draco’s fingers left his nipple, and Draco smirked into the base of his throat.

“Foreplay, Potter,” he murmured. “I hope you’re taking notes.”

“Piss off!”

Draco chuckled into his skin. Such a weak response. Probably too distracted. Flattering. Distracting.

Pushing Potter until he fell onto his back again, he shifted his left hand down to hold his hip, and kept his forearm angled away. He kissed his way down and over Potter’s chest until he bumped Potter’s nipple with his nose.

Feeling Potter’s hitched breath right down to his bones, he smirked and pressed a kiss to the hardened point. A shiver erupted over Potter’s body, and Draco kissed it again, and again. He trailed his tongue around, and around it, flicking it just once, before avoiding it again.

Potter was moaning, and panting, and Draco shivered. He’d never been with a man with such sensitive nipples before. He was surprised by how much he was enjoying himself. He finally pressed an open-mouthed kiss to it, and then sucked. Potter’s chest arched off the bed a bit, and Draco made a pleased sound, scraping his teeth gently over the tightened peak.

“Fuck, Malfoy,” Potter breathed.

“Still a heathen with no patience,” Draco murmured, as he kissed across Potter’s chest to torment his other nipple. Merlin, he was enjoying this. Potter’s chest arched again at the first contact of his lips to that one, and it made Draco’s cock start to ache.

“Still a rude little shit,” Potter moaned, the effect of the words ruined by his obvious pleasure.

“Well, since it’s about to get me a shag, it’s obviously not something I have any motivation to change,” Draco replied with a chuckle, bringing his hand up to tease Potter’s other nipple.

He didn’t realise his mistake until he felt an iron grip on his left wrist, twisting, exposing his inner forearm. Freezing, his mouth hovering over Potter’s nipple, he no idea what to do. He felt ill, knowing Potter was looking at it.

“Helpful hint, Potter,” he said, fighting to keep his voice playful. “I need one hand to balance, and the other free to touch. I can do a lot with my mouth, but I’m going to need my hand back.”

“When did you do this?”

It was like being dunked in cold water. Draco ripped his arm free and glared at him.

“None of your damn business.”

“Did you really think you could cut it off?”

Draco felt ill. His cock had completely wilted, and Potter’s too, probably.

“You really need lessons in appropriate bedroom talk,” he said through a tense jaw.

Potter looked concerned. That kind of expression had no place on his face when looking at Draco.

“I’m drawing a line here,” Draco said firmly. “I don’t praise you, and you don’t talk about my Dark Mark.”

“Draco, you—”

“I didn’t say you could call me that!” Draco snapped.

Potter blinked up at him, looking surprised. Draco scowled. He shouldn’t have let Potter take off his wand holster. He knew better. Letting people see never went over well.

“I’m not sure if I should be worried, but you not giving me what I want right now is kind of turning me on,” Potter said, slowly. “Even with what we’re talking about.”

“For fucks sake, Potter,” Draco muttered. He couldn’t keep up with the stupid git.

“What, like you don’t like the idea of turning me on by pissing me off,” Potter said, smirking at him.

Just like that, the tension was broken. Draco shook his head. Shagging Potter was certainly turning out to be an adventure. At least Potter was ahead of him again. Draco glanced down. Well ahead. That was surprising, considering how concerned Potter had looked from seeing the scars on his Dark Mark.

“Turn over,” he said shortly, shuffling back.

Potter frowned at him, finally displaying some nervousness.

“You’re not hard.”

“I don’t need to be hard to play with your arse,” Draco sneered. “I have fingers. I have a mouth.”

Potter’s eyes darted to his mouth and his face turned red. “Your _mouth_?”

Draco smirked. He hadn’t been planning on rimming him, but now that he knew Potter hadn’t even heard of it, he couldn’t resist.

“Turn over.”

“I’m not sure I want—”

“You do, turn over.”

“You can’t tell me what I want!” Potter snapped, his face flushing darker.

“I’m the one with the sexual experience here, Potter. Turn over, or I’ll turn you over myself,” he said, giving the outside of his thigh a little slap. “If you don’t like it, say so and I’ll stop.”

Potter bit his lip and looked him up and down. Draco really tried to ignore the way his eyes lingered on the Dark Mark, before he slowly turned over. He settled, let Draco push his legs into a better position, and then looked over his shoulder.

Finally, those virgin nerves were showing. Draco felt his expression soften before he could help it. Even if it was Potter, he knew first times could be scary, and he couldn’t help sliding his hands up Harry’s back, massaging a bit to relax him.

“’No, stop, I don’t like it’ is an excellent phrase, and I suggest you use it if you need it,” he said softly.

Potter met his eyes and bit his lip for a moment, before his expression morphed into a confidence that must be faked, even though it looked so real.

“Perhaps I should be taking my arse elsewhere, if you think you can’t satisfy me.”

Heat throbbed through Draco at the words, and he slid his hands down to grip Potter’s arse. Potter tensed slightly, and then relaxed again, turning his head forward, as Draco did nothing more than massage his arse cheeks and down the backs of his thighs.

“You have no idea the things I’m going to do to you,” Draco breathed, leaning forward and kissing one arse cheek. Potter jerked and then looked over his shoulder.

Draco smirked up at him and retrieved his wand. He considered saying nothing, and then thought better of it.

“I’m going to cast a cleaning charm now,” he said. “So don’t squeal like a little girl when you feel it.”

Potter’s expression darkened, but then he twitched and looked alarmed as the spell rushed through him. Draco smirked, he remembered feeling that for the first time. It was incredibly odd. Enough to make Potter forget whatever retort he’d been thinking.

“Still hard? Didn’t frighten the mighty saviour into going soft?” Draco quipped as he put aside his wand, settled himself down between Potter’s legs, and kissed one arse cheek again. Potter had a spectacularly formed arse. It begged to be kissed.

Merlin. If his younger self had known one day he’d be willingly kissing Potter’s arse…

“You can put your mouth to better use than saying things like that.”

Draco paused, mouth open, about to suck a mark onto his arse cheek, and met his gaze. Potter’s face was bright red, but he looked determined. It sent a rush of heat through Draco. Shivering, he gently brushed the tip of his thumb over the puckered flesh of Potter’s rim. Potter was right, this was better than being fawned over.

He’d had a few depraved men come after him because he used to be a Death Eater. Nothing made him soften faster than hearing their subtle, to be safe, he was sure, comments in praise of what he’d been. Or men who were turned on by the novelty and excitement of fucking a former Death Eater. Unlike Potter, he was usually able to get hard again, turn them over, and fuck them anyway.

Having Potter treat him as he always had, even while in a vulnerable position such as he was, made him shiver. Just like Potter shivered at the first brush of his thumb. He tensed again, and Draco kissed his arse and sucked to try and leave a mark while he gently brushed his thumb over his rim.

Glancing up, he saw Potter was still watching with wide eyes. He was going to hurt his neck. Idiot. Speeding things along, he shifted and moved his thumb away to kiss his entrance instead.

Potter made a funny choking sound, and Draco smirked, flicking out his tongue and tracing the crinkled skin.

“Bloody hell,” Potter murmured, tensing again.

Draco looked up to see him still watching and rolled his eyes at him, before giving that entrance a more direct swipe with his tongue. He gripped Potter’s arse cheeks and spread him open, as he kissed and licked. Potter’s breathing rapidly became ragged, and he started shivering and twitching.

“Did I not say you would want this?” Draco asked, unable to help himself, replacing his tongue with the tip of his thumb again, rubbing circles while he smirked at Potter.

“You don’t have to be a prat about it!” Potter hissed.

“I want to hear you say it,” Draco said, peppering his arse with kisses again. Merlin, but his arse cheeks were such perfect rounded globes.

“Say what?” Potter’s tone was guarded and Draco grinned.

“That I was right.”

“You fucking twat.”

Draco chuckled, before giving his bottom a sharp nip and returning his tongue to the task of making him shiver and shake.

The yelp Potter made at the little bite dissolved into a breathy sound as Draco tongued at his entrance. The breathy sound turned to a moan as he licked and kissed. Potter’s thighs were shaking, and he was starting to rock his hips slightly. The sight, and the way each motion pushed Potter’s arse against his face, made him ache and want to rub against the bed himself. He was rapidly hardening again.

“Do you actually enjoy doing that?”

Draco looked up as he started to put pressure on Potter’s entrance, trying to get the tip of his tongue in. He caught the confused look on Potter’s face melt into pleasure as he moaned and pressed back against the sensation. He could stop to answer his question, but the tight clench of Potter’s opening was finally giving way as he relaxed.

The sounds that spilled from Potter as he tongued him were divine. Draco closed his eyes and fought the urge to rut shamelessly against the mattress. It had been awhile since he’d managed to come three times in one night, and he didn’t want to risk coming now, failing to get hard again, and not giving Potter the shag that would stay with him.

Potter had no such reservations. He was now rocking against the mattress, and then pressing back against Draco’s face. He was moaning and cursing, and when Draco opened his eyes, he saw Potter was still looking back at him and clutching desperately at the sheets where he propped himself up.

Shivering from the dazed and rather delirious look on Potter’s face, Draco started to work a finger in alongside his tongue. The effect was mesmerising. Potter’s hips froze and his eyes widened, locked on Draco’s as he watched him. His entrance clenched down for a moment, and then relaxed, allowing the finger to slide in.

“Oh God,” Potter moaned.

Draco shivered and continued to kiss and lick around his finger as Potter began rocking his hips again. He’d heard a few muggleborns say that before, but as far as he was aware, Potter was more used to using wizarding phrases now.

The flattery involved in bringing that out made him rock his own hips, just a little. Merlin, the fact Potter was rutting against the mattress and his face in turns already had him skirting the edge alarmingly fast. He’d never been so affected by someone in bed before. Was it because Potter was a virgin? Experiencing it all for the first time in that deliciously unrestrained way? Or was it because it was Potter?

He rather thought having Potter’s arse grinding against his face should piss him off, given their history, not cause him to rut against the bed like a teenager.

“Malfoy,” Potter moaned, “I’m—”

With an erratic twitch of his hips, Potter groaned long and low, his rim fluttering around Draco’s finger and tongue as he came.

Draco blinked and leaned back, keeping the finger in him and watching with a startled expression as Potter continued to rock against the bed to ride out his orgasm, still clenching around his finger.

His own cock gave a particularly powerful throb, and he was tempted to reach down and quickly wank to completion himself. If it wasn’t for the uncertainty about whether he’d be able to get hard a third time, he’d do so without hesitation.

Never had he had anyone in his bed quite like Potter.

Finally still, Potter kept his face away for a moment, before he peeked over his shoulder. His face was red, and he looked ashamed. Something, some strange urge, rose up in Draco, and he let his finger slip free and shuffled over Potter,until he was gripping his face and kissing him.

Potter barely kissed back, and he still looked embarrassed and ashamed when Draco pulled away again. The angle must have been killing his neck, so Draco nudged and pushed until Potter complied and rolled over onto his back. Settling over him, careful to keep his cock from touching him, Draco kissed him again.

After several moments, Potter’s hands tentatively came to rest on Draco’s sides. Draco didn’t stop kissing him until those hands were clutching at him as desperately has they had been before. When finally they were, he parted their lips and whistled.

“You didn’t tell me you can come so many times in one night,” he said, allowing his genuine awe to seep into his tone. He had no guarantee Potter would be able to get hard a third time, but the poor fool clearly needed a confidence boost.

Potter looked embarrassed again.

“How long until you can get hard again?” Draco asked, leaning down to kiss along his collarbone.

“You…you’re not…”

Draco cringed, and was glad Potter couldn’t see it. The poor sod. As much as he disliked Potter, on principle and experience, no one deserved to feel like Potter was obviously feeling in bed. And most certainly not in Draco’s bed. It seemed the dynamic Potter had wanted, Draco not caring, wasn’t going to keep working for them so well after all. Potter needed someone to care. Getting snapped at now was the last thing he needed.

“Angry? Why in Merlin’s name would I be angry?” Draco asked, shuffling down to tongue at a nipple.

Potter’s breath caught, and he slid his hands into Draco’s hair. Shivering from the sensation of blunt nails scraping lightly over his scalp, Draco gently took the nipple between his teeth and tugged slightly.

Potter’s back arched, and he made a startled, groaning sound.

“That was the most erotic thing I’ve seen in a while,” Draco said, as he released the nipple and shifted up to take Potter’s lips in a short kiss. “Having you rut against the bed and my face like that, I was hard pressed to stop myself from doing a little rutting of my own.”

Potter looked down and swallowed. “Why didn’t you?”

Draco laughed softly. “I don’t have inexperience on my side here,” he said gently. Merlin, who would have thought it would be so easy to be gentle with Potter? “It would take me longer to be ready again.”

“You got somewhere to be tomorrow?”

Draco met his eyes. “No,” he said cautiously. “But I can easily wait until—”

“Good. I want to blow you.”

Draco’s words died in his throat. Potter gave him a cocky raised eyebrow, but his jawline was trembling. Swallowing around a suddenly dry throat, Draco blinked and tried to process that. Potter wanted to blow him? When he hadn’t done it before? Him? Draco Malfoy? Hadn’t they agreed they despised each other?

It was one thing to let Draco fuck him, given how obviously desperate he was to get shagged, to get rid of his virginity, but it was another to do something to Draco that was solely for Draco’s pleasure.

“You what?”

Potter smirked and looked down at his cock. “Really, Malfoy? You’re turning that down? Alright then,” he said. “You wank yourself, I’ll just sit back and watch.”

Draco shivered. That wasn’t a bad idea itself.

“Piss off,” he muttered. “Just making sure you know what you’re saying.”

“I want to suck your cock,” Potter said, each word dripping with that faked confidence. Draco could only tell it was faked because he knew Potter so well, and could see his hands shaking. “I can’t see what else it would mean.”

“Merlin, Potter.”

“Don’t get too excited.” Potter’s tone shifted, and he looked at Draco’s cock again and bit his lip. “As I’m sure you’ll tell me, I’ll be rather shit at it. But surely better than a hand, right?”

Draco was struck, suddenly, by what a pity it was Potter had already come twice. A third was likely, given his eagerness and inexperience, but a fourth, probably impossible. If Draco even gave him a lick, he’d be likely to come before Draco could finally get around to having his arse, and then he’d lose his chance. And he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from sucking Potter to orgasm if he started. Potter’s reactions to every new thing were far too mesmerising.

Someone else would have to be the one to show Potter how it felt to be sucked. The dissatisfaction of that knowledge made Draco’s gut clench. He could ruin Potter for anal sex with anyone else, but someone else would set the standard for blowjobs.

Without another word, Draco shifted to the edge of the bed and let his legs hang over. He looked back at Potter, and jerked his head towards the floor.

Potter swallowed nervously and licked his lips. The motion made Draco’s cock ache. The possibility that he may embarrass himself here made him angrier than words. Angry at himself for being completely unprepared for what Potter would be like in bed.

As Potter shifted off the bed and kneeled between his legs, giving him a look of fake confidence that was shaky around the edges, Draco again felt that urge rise up in his chest. He reached out and stroked Potter’s face, brushing his thumb over his lips.

“I know you’re a proud, brave, stupid git,” he said, “but don’t do this if you don’t want to.”

Potter’s jaw relaxed under his fingers. “Don’t want to get your cock sucked, Draco?”

Draco shivered. “I thought I told you not to call me that.”

Potter’s surprised expression made it clear he hadn’t realised what he’d said. He stared at Draco, looking unsure.

Draco sighed. Ridding Potter of his virginity was nowhere near as easy as he’d thought it would be. Even if it was better than he’d imagined.

“There’s nothing less sexy than someone doing something they don’t want to do in bed,” he said shortly. “I don’t want you doing this if you don’t want to. I get that you want to learn. I get that you’re obviously desperate and sick of being a virgin. But don’t be a stupid twat. I’m not so desperate that I’ll sit here and let you do something you’ll be sickened by later.”

Potters eyes steadily widened, and then, inexplicably, he smiled. His gaze dropped to Draco’s cock, and then darted back to his face. His smile turned cheeky.

“Nope. Still hard,” he said. “You worried me there for a moment, Malfoy. I thought you’d gone soft.”

Draco chuckled before he could stop himself. “Shut up and get to work then, before I go soft from boredom.”

Potter laughed, and Draco’s toes curled from the sound. Internally cursing himself for letting them get sentimental, Draco shuffled a bit, planting his hands just behind his hips and leaning back casually. Potter looked over Draco’s body, pausing on the scars, and darting a glance over to his scarred Dark Mark. It made Draco shiver, it made him want to cover himself, but he just kept his gaze fixed on Potter’s face, and waited.

As much as he knew Potter would be terrible at it, given his experiences so far that night, he knew was going to love it anyway. Potter was like no one he’d ever had in his bed before. It made their history a non-issue. It made it all too easy to do this, and to want to do it for more than just revenge. He still loved that Potter would never, ever forget him, and never think of him the same way he’d used to. But he also found himself enjoying him far more than he’d expected.

As Potter seemed to inhale slowly, Draco felt that urge to be nice again. Stupid thing, really. Still, he couldn’t stop himself.

“Go slow,” he said softly. “Explore. Enjoy yourself. Whoever you’re with will enjoy it much more if you do too. And they won’t notice so much that you’re absolutely shit at it, as long as you’re enjoying it.”

Potter fixed him with disbelieving eyes. “If you choke me, I’ll bite you.”

Draco cringed. “Fucking animal.”

Potter smirked. “Know your place.”

“Unbelievable. The nerve,” Draco said. “You’re the one who’s on his knees!”

Not bothering to reply, Potter shuffled closer between his legs and slowly gripped his cock with a shaking hand. Draco inhaled slowly. It shouldn’t be so arousing. Potter shouldn't be so arousing. But he was. The way he was so obviously nervous, so obviously scared, zand yet, so completely confident at the same time.

Like no virgin Draco had ever seen.

Defying expectations, Potter didn’t try to take him in all at once. He moved closer, and seemed to look over every inch of him. The scrutiny made Draco shiver. It made him check to see if he’d groomed recently, and then promptly want to slap himself for even caring what Potter thought of the state of his pubic hair.

“I sort of expected you to have small cock,” Potter said casually, glancing up. “Did I say before?”

Draco stared at him. “How dare—”

He cut himself off with a sharp inhale, as Potter flicked his tongue out and licked up the side of his cock in one, slow motion. At the head, he smirked up at Draco, and Draco’s cock twitched and hit his mouth.

“I think your cock likes me being a prat to you,” Potter said, before he kissed the head, and then kissed and sucked down the other side to the base again.

Draco gripped the sheets and bit his lip. Bloody hell. He was rather certain Potter was right.

“We’re well matched then,” he muttered, as Potter’s hand cradled his balls, and slowly massaged them, learning the feel of them. “Pissing you off is one of my favourite pastimes.”

Shivers erupted over his body as Potter did no more than make a soft amused sound. He remained focused on what was in front of him, with an intensity that Draco found entirely too arousing. His eyes slid shut, and a quiet moan escaped him, as Potter’s lips and tongue explored the shaft of his cock, while his fingers still massaged his balls. He hadn’t expected that. Then again, clearly he was a fool to take Potter to bed with any expectations at all.

Feeling fingers suddenly run through his pubic hair, however, had him make a startled sound and look down again. He shivered at the feel of dull nails gently scraping the skin under the well-maintained hair.

“Are you seriously playing with my pubic hair, Potter?” he asked.

“Sit back and shut up,” Potter said casually, raising his head to look at him. “You told me to explore. Deal with it.”

Draco shook his head, unsure how to even respond. Every time Potter said things like that, he seemed to be losing his nervousness and becoming more comfortable. And when he did, he became even more alluring.

It was infuriating.

“They’re almost invisible,” Potter murmured looking at his own fingers playing with Draco’s pubic hair, before finally turning his attention back to the cock bumping his cheek.

“You are fucking ridiculous, Potter.”

Really, there was nothing else to say to that. Because he was just as hard as a few moments ago, and still far further along than he would normally be for anyone else. It was infuriating.

“Which apparently, you like,” Potter said, arching an eyebrow before returning his mouth to tease Draco’s cock. That’s all it could be called. Teasing. Draco bit his lip and watched, as Potter used lips and tongue all over the shaft of his cock, but still didn’t put the bloody thing in his mouth.

It still felt incredible, but Merlin, what a tease.

Gently, carefully, he balanced on one hand, and brushed the fingers of the other across Potter’s brow and into his hair.

Potter tensed, and his eyes darted up. Draco gripped a handful of hair, but did nothing else. He raised an eyebrow at Potter, and Potter relaxed again. A sort of curious look appeared on his face, and then he shifted his hand, and slid a finger behind Draco’s balls.

His boldness had Draco’s cock twitching again.

“Can I...do you let people…”

Draco snorted. “No, I like to limit the pleasure I can have,” he sneered. “Yes, Potter, you stupid git, you can stick a finger in my arse. Cleaning spell, lubricant. Let me shift my arse over the edge a bit.”

Potter’s face flushed red, and he watched with wide eyes as Draco shift so his arse was more accessible. Potter was bloody bold for having hands on a naked man for the first time. Typical Gryffindor. Truth was, Draco barely ever let anyone near his arse. There was always the fear that whoever it was had some kink about fucking a Death Eater. He had no interest in that, and sometimes it was difficult to spot until they were already at it. Theo and Blaise were really the only ones he’d let do that.

But it was so easy to say yes to Potter, and show him the spells. It was just curiosity. A virgin exploring another body for the first time. And, well, the way Potter looked at him as he brushed a slickened finger against his entrance...it was very flattering.

If he wasn’t careful, the night may go in an entirely different direction

Potter’s brow crinkled, as he pressed and rubbed with his finger. “A lot tighter than I expected,” he muttered, as the tip of his finger breached Draco’s arse. “Always you knew you were a tightarse.”

“I do believe your intelligence has decreased since Hogwarts. That was pathetic, you can do better,” Draco sneered, clutching at the bedpost with one hand to stay balanced. Merlin, what was it about Potter that had him reverting to a horny teenager? He was shivering, and his cock was aching something awful just from the look on Potter’s face as he pressed his finger in deeper.

“I bet you were planning on saying the same thing to me,” Potter said, darting a smirk at him.

“Are you still sucking my cock, or what?”

Pressing through his feet on the floor, he tilted his arse a bit, sinking Potter’s finger in deeper. It was bloody awkward, leaning back with his arse off the edge of the bed, balancing on his lower back and legs, and holding his torso up by his grip on the bedpost. But he didn’t want to lie back and miss watching Potter from that angle.

It had been so long since he’d had anything in his arse, and Potter certainly took his words to heart about exploring. His finger wriggled around, pressing and stroking every inch of flesh within reach. His lips and tongue had returned to his cock, still not putting it in his mouth. Draco whined, and then felt his face flush from the sound of it.

Merlin, Potter was a bloody virgin and he had Draco whining like some desperate little slut.

“Are you ever going to put that in your mouth?” he snapped, before he thought better of it.

Potter looked up at him and smirked. “I was wondering when you’d snap.”

“ _Excuse m_ —”

His words were cut off by a guttural sound escaping him as Potter finally slid his mouth over the head of his cock.

“You fucking tease!” Draco hissed, gripping the bedpost and nearly sliding off the bed.

Potter hummed, clearly amused, and the vibration made Draco’s toes curl. Coincidentally, because Potter couldn't possibly know where it was, that wriggling finger brushed his prostate at the same time. Draco made a desperate sound and bit his lip. Potter slid his mouth off again, and then tongued at the head, looking up at him and pressing his finger around the same spot until Draco made a weak sound again.

“Congratulations, Potter,” Draco said breathlessly. “Still a skilled seeker.”

Potter laughed, pressing his face into Draco’s thigh. It should have annoyed him, for that mouth to move away from his cock, but Draco found the sight rather breath-taking. The sound as well. Potter’s breathless laugh.

“And you called me ridiculous?” Potter gasped, lifting his head and meeting his eyes. He looked delighted. It was disgustingly attractive.

“Sod off!” Draco snapped lightly, his voice cracking as Potter pressed with his finger again.

“I really think you’d rather I didn’t.”

Draco growled, and then immediately flushed with embarrassment. He was losing control of the situation, and rather than annoy him, it was only making him ache all the more. As Potter laughed again, and slid his mouth over the tip of Draco’s cock, Draco had to conjure some terrifying images into his mind so he didn’t come at once.

Merlin, if he hadn’t known Potter was virgin, he would never have believed it. He would have just assumed Potter was deliberately tormenting him. The git was a perfect tease.

“We never discussed,” he said, swallowing and fighting to form words when all his throat wanted to do was produce moans. Potter was sucking delightfully, and that damn finger of his had perfect bloody aim. “Am I coming in your mouth? Or giving you warning to pull away?”

No point being coy about it, he was getting too close to deal with pretences or taunting. That was embarrassing enough. Merlin, Potter was nothing like he’d expected.

Potter didn’t even move his mouth away, he just looked up, met Draco’s gaze, and shrugged his shoulders.

“What the…fuck is—” Draco moaned, and felt his toes curling. He wasn’t going to make it. “—that supposed to mean?” he snapped, barely getting the words out, before making a weak groaning sound and arching his back. Too soon. Again.

Draco didn’t realise he’d closed his eyes, until he was blinking them open and looking down. He felt like he’d blacked out for a moment. Potter was sitting back, looking at him and breathing heavily. There was a dribble of semen on his chin, and his cock had started to get hard again.

Draco groaned and lifted his arse onto the bed to lie back and rub his face. Bloody hell. Was he even going to get to shag Potter? The git was already getting hard again, and it would take Draco too long to catch up. If he even could. Potter would probably come on his fingers before he managed to fuck him. Not that it wasn’t a very satisfying outcome on its own.

His plan to get revenge by giving Potter a shag that would be difficult to compete with was failing fast.

“You could have warned me your cock was insatiable,” he muttered petulantly.

“You think I had any clue what I’d be like with someone else?” Potter asked, and Draco cracked an eye open to see him standing between his legs, wiping the ejaculate off his chin and looking down at him with an annoyed expression. “All I knew was that I went soft whenever they opened their bloody mouths.”

“What do you want to do now?” Draco asked tiredly. “I hate to admit defeat. But I won’t be ready to fuck you for at least half an hour, probably more like an hour. Can you get off, and then get hard again? Do you want my mouth? I could finger you? I have some toys that—”

“I’ll wait,” Potter said firmly, interrupting him. He was sweeping his eyes over Draco’s body, lingering on his scars again.

Draco’s breath caught in his throat. He honestly hadn’t expected that. “Drink?”

Potter shook his head. “Still want to be sober.”

“One drink won’t make you inebriated. Or are you a lightweight?” Draco taunted, looking down and gently touching his softened cock. With a hiss, he pulled his hand away. Bloody sensitive. It might take longer than an hour.

“How about we order in some food?” Potter suggested. “I’m starving.”

Draco nodded. Not a bad idea. His stomach grumbled as soon as he thought about it. Potter cast about for his banished clothes, and frowned when he saw them, neatly folded on a chair in the corner. Draco was no heathen.

“Don’t bother,” he said, pulling himself up off the bed with a groan. He flicked his wand, and summoned a bathrobe from himself and Potter. “Your body has probably never felt silk before tonight. Enjoy it while you can.”

Potter scowled darkly at him, and yanked the bathrobe on. “Pretentious git.”

“Can’t fool me now,” Draco sneered, snatching up his wand and leading him out into the lounge. “You clearly like it, or you’d have more trouble with this.”

Potter was silent, and Draco looked over his shoulder to see him smoothing his hands down the front of the robe. He was going to comment, but then his stomach rumbled again, and he summoned the takeout menu instead.

“Pizza alright?” he asked.

“You eat pizza?”

“What? Is that not allowed?” Draco asked waspishly. “Purebloods can’t enjoy pizza?”

“Thought you’d be worried about your waistline, actually,” Potter said with a shrug. “Pizza is fine. I’m so hungry, I hardly care.”

“My waistline is perfection!” Draco snapped, glaring at him. So maybe he was softer than he’d been in Hogwarts. He still looked amazing, and he knew Potter thought so too from the way he’d been looking at him.

“Your everything is perfection, you annoying twat,” Potter muttered, just loudly enough for Draco to hear.

Draco felt his face flush, and struggled to think of something to say back. He didn’t normally flounder over compliments. Fucking Potter.

“Any preferences?” he asked instead, waving the pizza menu around.

“You already know I want your cock, nothing else matters tonight,” Potter said, smirking over at him.

Draco grit his teeth as another pleased feeling crashed through him. That git.

“The phone only works on the balcony,” he muttered, and disappeared outside to order. Merlin, what had he gotten himself into?

“Blimey, that’s a nice view.”

Draco groaned, and slumped as Potter joined him on the balcony. Before he could tell him to piss off and give him a moment, the pizza place picked up, and he rattled off his order quickly.

Potter glanced at him, leaning against the rail the same way he had against the counter in the club’s bathroom. He was all cocky arrogance again. Draco supposed bringing him to two quick orgasms was likely to do that.

“The city, or me?” he asked after he ended the call, leaning back as well. Two could play at that game.

“I thought we were waiting for your slow cock to catch up?” Potter quipped, looking far too amused.

“You lazy little shit,” Draco muttered, looking him over. The git was still a bit hard. Draco rather wanted to sink to his knees and make him come again. Merlin, he wanted to see him react without restraint to the first mouth on his cock. “You can’t expect me to do all the work.”

“Can’t I?”

Potter’s smirk was heated, and Draco glared at him. “Entitled twat.”

“Hasn’t put you off yet.”

Draco shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. It really hadn’t. Revenge was fading in importance. Now he just wanted to see Potter’s reactions to everything he could try. He’d never slept with anyone like him before. So unrestrained and responsive.

“Why didn’t you heal that?”

Draco startled, and realised he’d used his left hand to push his hair back, baring his Dark Mark for Potter’s eyes. Feeling sick, he dropped his arm. He’d already forgotten he wasn’t wearing his wand holster.

“None of your business.”

Potter eyed him cautiously. “It bugs me.”

“Fuck off!” Draco snapped. “I couldn’t care less whether your sensibilities are offended by my scars. It’s none of your damn business. If you don’t like seeing them, then I’ll put the holster back on. You were the one who—”

“For fucks sake, calm down,” Potter said, stepping close and crowding Draco against the rail. “It bugs me that you hurt yourself, you stupid twat.”

“Fuck off!”

“Can you not be a prickly bastard for five minutes?” Potter asked, looking exasperated.

“You’re here because your cock goes soft whenever men mention the things you did,” Draco said hotly. “But you have the nerve to bring up my past to me?”

Potter looked reluctantly chastised, and stepped back. Draco exhaled suddenly, realising he’d been holding his breath.

“It’s just a few scars. It’s nothing,” he found himself saying.

“Before or after the battle?” Potter asked.

“I won’t hesitate to kick you out of my flat,” Draco said seriously. “I said my Dark Mark was off limits.”

“Fine!” Potter snapped, looking back out over the city.

There was a seething mess of anger and pain in Draco’s chest from having the memories stirred. He felt immensely unsatisfied by Potter dropping the issue. Which was idiotic. He didn’t even want to tell him.

“You’re a fucking wanker,” he hissed, turning to face the city also. “It was in sixth year. And seventh. Occasionally in the first few years after the war was over. Happy?”

“No.”

Draco refused to look at him. He felt shaky, off centre. He hardly let anyone see the scars at all, and he certainly never talked about them. They represented a weakness he wished he’d never possessed. Fucking Potter. Always able to get under his skin.

“Good.”

They stood in silence for a several minutes. Draco’s mood started to smooth out. There was something peaceful about watching the city at night. It was why he’d chosen the flat, as well as to get away from the magical world sometimes.

“I’m sorry.”

“Piss off!”

“I shouldn't have pushed you to talk.”

“Potter, I swear, I will throw you out and—”

The doorbell rang. Draco groaned and shot Potter a glare before going to retrieve the food. Was shagging Potter even worth all this anymore? Probably not. But he couldn’t quite manage to throw him out.

Potter followed him through, and Draco thrust a box at him. Taking his own, he sat on the couch, and opened it.

“Are you seriously going to eat a whole pizza yourself?”

“Are you seriously so keen to get hexed?”

Potter snorted and took a bite of his own. Draco glared, but felt satisfied to have had the last word. They ate in an awkward but not completely uncomfortable silence.

With two slices of pizza left, Draco’s eyes darted to Potter. He was absolutely full, but like hell he was going to give Potter the satisfaction. With an internal grimace, he finished his pizza and leaned back with a groan, rubbing his stomach.

“I never thought I’d be sitting in a silk robe eating pizza with Draco bloody Malfoy,” Potter muttered, leaving his pizza with a piece left and setting the box on the coffee table. Git.

“After two fantastic orgasms,” Draco added, closing his eyes and sighing. Aside from a few hiccups, it had already been an enjoyable night. And so far from what he’d expected when he’d Apparated them into his flat.

“Four,” Potter said, and at the pleasure in his voice, Draco cracked an eye open to see him relaxing back with a sigh. “Don’t forget your own.”

He wasn’t likely too for a while. Faster than usual, somehow better than usual. Bloody Potter.

Making a humming sound in reply, he closed his eyes again. Merlin, but he could go to sleep so easily.

There was a shuffling sound, and then the couch shaking as Potter obviously clambered closer to him. Draco wanted to whine. He was nowhere near ready again. Potter was ridiculously insatiable.

But the other man just settled again, and Draco didn’t even bother to crack his eyes open.

“That’s the first time someone’s touched my scar since I was younger.”

Draco tensed. Fucking Potter. How hard was it to keep any talking between them to safe topics? Bloody hell, they’d never get to shagging if he kept bringing up things like that.

“You touched mine, I get to touch yours,” he said petulantly.

Moments after he said it, he knew what was going to happen. But still, he didn’t move his arm, and warm, calloused fingers brushed the scarred skin over his Dark Mark. He rather wished Potter had made a stupid joke about the double meaning of his words, rather than that. Still, he kept his eyes closed and didn’t move.

“When I saw you three years ago, at that charity gala Pansy threw, and I called you a Death Eater when you insulted me...” Potter said slowly. There was a long pause, and Draco cringed. Merlin. How could Potter ask that?

“My Dark Mark is off limits,” he reiterated.

“Draco—”

“If you call me that one more time, I will throw you out, and then I will send the Prophet a letter about how desperate you were for me to fuck you,” Draco said, hating himself for saying it, disgusted to even think it, but desperate for Potter to stop taking them to a place that was far from casual.

“They wouldn’t believe you.”

“I don’t care.”

Potter sighed, and his fingers disappeared from Draco’s skin.

He wanted them back. He wanted to hit himself.

Bringing Potter into his home, into his bed, was a monumental mistake.

“I still want you to fuck me,” Potter said, his voice steadying. “I’m sick of my virginity. I’m sick of getting worked up, and then going soft because everyone treats me like some kind of god.”

“Completely undeserving,” Draco muttered. “All you did was kill something that was more dead than alive anyway.  Pure luck, and friends far more intelligent and brave than you.”

Potter made a breathless sound, and Draco cracked an eye open to find him holding his mouth to restrain laughter.

“Afraid to laugh at me openly? See? Coward.”

Potter’s amused expression contorted into a scowl, and Draco smirked. That was far more familiar. Potter always did loathe being called a coward. They were alike in that.

“Are you going to tell people you fucked the Boy Who Lived?”

Draco took in Potter’s posture. Defensive. He supposed Potter was feeling something akin to what he felt whenever he realised a man he was with was only interested in fucking the former Death Eater. That hit him low in his gut.

“I’m not a paedophile, Potter,” he said casually. “I’m fucking Harry Potter, not the Boy Who Lived.”

Potter looked away, and Draco admired his jawline from profile. And his neck. And the collarbones showing where the shoulders of his robe had slid down. Merlin, but the git was attractive.

Turning back to him, Potter’s expression was heated, and Draco felt warmth stir in him too. But he was far too full and comfortable for a fuck yet.

“Simmer down, we just ate.”

“Am I too much for you to handle, Malfoy?”

Draco shivered. The way Potter said his name...low, coy. Merlin, he was too full for a fuck but he was getting turned on anyway.

Abruptly, he stood, enjoying the look of surprise on Potter’s face.

“Fine, I'll stop holding back,” he said. “Get that arse of yours back in my bed. I can put plenty of other things inside you before I give you my cock.”

“I’m not sure I want to know,” Potter muttered, but he stood as well.

“You do,” Draco said, enjoying the way Potter was leaning towards him.

“Well, you were right last time,” Potter muttered, tugging at the cord tying Draco’s robe, and then stroking the tips of his fingers down Draco’s exposed chest.

“Say it again,” Draco teased, catching Potter’s hand before it could get too low.

Potter met his eyes. “You were right when you said I’d enjoy you kissing and licking my arse, Malfoy,” he said, stepping even closer, until each word was a gust of warmth over Draco’s face. “But then, I always knew I’d enjoy having you kiss my arse.”

Draco forced himself to scowl, rather than show Potter how much he enjoyed the barbs they were sharing. He really had missed that. No one else would spar with him verbally anymore. Everyone took him too seriously. Part of being an ex-Death Eater, he supposed. And then there was that part of himself that was reluctant to really give in and snap at anyone, wary of undoing all his progress.

But Potter just made everything feel so natural, so easy.

“Just like I know I’ll enjoy pushing you face first into the mattress and fucking you until you come screaming my name.”

“Thought of fucking me often, have you?” Potter asked. Draco shivered as Potter’s hands slid into his hair, his blunt nails scraping lightly over his scalp as he tilted his head back.

“Not as much as you’d think,” Draco replied, his breath catching as Potter kissed his bared throat. “Arrogant twat.”

“Pretentious git.”

Draco could feel Potter’s cock against him. He was hard again. Merlin. Was it just his inexperience, or was Potter just one of those rare men who could come again and again? A trait Draco envied greatly, but did not possess without great effort. His night with Potter being the exception, apparently.

“You sure you haven’t thought of fucking me often?” he asked quietly, closing his eyes as Potter’s hot mouth wreaked havoc on his neck. He would be littered with marks in the morning. Heat throbbed through his groin at the thought. He’d have to try and make sure Potter saw somehow. It would probably make the git hard in his trousers from one glance. A visual reminder of everything they were doing. “You went soft for everyone else, and this is the fourth time you’ve become hard for me.”

“Third.”

“Two orgasms, four erections. You got hard when you were on your knees for me, remember?” Draco corrected, then hissed as Potter bit his neck just a little too hard. “I may not be made of glass, and definitely don’t treat me as such, but don’t be a bloody animal! Ease off a tad.”

Potter’s hands spasmed on his scalp, and his mouth eased off. Draco almost held his breath, wondering if he’d scared him off. The inexperienced could be funny like that. But he was fairly sure Potter wasn’t one to be frightened away.

“What point are you making?” Potter asked, before he resumed kissing and sucking at Draco’s neck as if he hadn’t been told off for biting too hard. The more they did, the more confident Potter was becoming. Merlin, what would he be like in bed with full confidence in himself? When his virginity was gone and no longer a concern?

Draco exhaled shakily. What was his point?

“Bedroom?” Potter murmured into the dip of his collarbone.

Draco shivered and pulled away. He didn’t look at Potter as he led the way. Arousal was rising in him again, though his cock hadn’t quite joined in yet. Merlin, the git was insatiable and Draco was starting to hate his body for its inability to keep up.

He should probably be hating Potter instead.

As soon as they were inside the room, he turned and pulled Potter close to him. Potter groaned at the contact, the pressure against his cock. Kissing him deeply, passionately, Draco slid off his robe, and walked him backwards to the bed.

Potter fell back when his legs hit the edge, and Draco shivered to see him sprawled out on his back, cock hard, looking up at him with dark, dark eyes.

“Move up, turn over.”

Potter swallowed visibly, but did so without argument. The easy obedience was so unexpected, Draco’s cock gave a small throb of interest. Frowning, Draco was slower as he followed Potter onto the bed, collecting a pot of lubricant he kept in his bedside drawer. Conjured lubricant was just never smooth enough for his tastes.

After being so aroused by Potter’s fight, he couldn't understand why the complete opposite was also so completely breath-taking.

“Hands and knees,” he said, kneeling behind him. “No rubbing off on the bed this time.”

Potter looked over his shoulder at him, a smirk twisting his features.

“Afraid I’ll get too far ahead of you again and you won’t be able to catch up?”

Draco glared at him. “If you come again, I’ll fuck you anyway, whether you get hard again or not.”

Potter’s smirk only intensified. “You won’t,” he said confidently.

The git was right. And Draco hated that he knew it.

Draco dipped his fingers in the lubricant, and set the pot down beside him. It was spelled so it couldn’t spill, which he told Potter when the silly git tried to grab it as it rolled onto its side.

Feeling his cock hardening from the sight of Potter kneeling so comfortably in front of him, Draco started working the first finger in without much warning. Potter tensed immediately, and met his eyes with a surprised expression.

“What happened to foreplay?”

Draco grit his teeth, and wandlessly banished is robe. Any more foreplay and they’d never bloody shag.

“I don’t need you coming too soon again,” he said instead. “Unless you can promise me you’re able to get hard again.”

Potter bit his lip, making a soft sound as Draco’s finger slid in to the knuckle.

“You’re the one who’s been calling me a stupid idiot all night,” he said, his voice strained. “We both know I have no clue what my cock can do with another person around.”

Draco shivered. He was tempted to get Potter off just to see, but the prat was right. If Potter came and wasn’t able to harden again, he wouldn’t shag him. Even if he asked him to. Even if he begged him to.

Sighing, Draco shuffled closer and kissed between Potter’s shoulder blades. “Relax,” he murmured.

Almost immediately, Potter’s whole body just seemed to shiver and release tension. Closing his eyes against the throbbing in his groin from the affect his one word had on Potter, Draco brushed his prostate. Potter released a low, surprised and desperate groan that had Draco biting his lip hard as arousal bust through him. Potter looked back over his shoulder at him with an expression he couldn't even find the words to describe.

Snark and bantering forgotten, Draco pressed with his finger again. “That’s your prostate,” he said softly, watching the unrestrained pleasure contort and relax Potter’s face in turns.

“Oh god.”

Draco hummed and kissed his shoulder. Merlin, he was hard. Potter had him hard for a third time. Closing his eyes, he tried to remember how to breathe. How had he ever thought Potter would be an easy, uncomplicated fuck?

“Are you ready for another finger?” he asked softly, pressing more kisses to Potter’s shoulders. The git was still looking back at him, but Draco couldn’t look at him without his cock aching terribly.

“I don’t know,” Potter moaned. “Am I?”

Draco met his gaze, and Potter just stared back and moaned at every press of his finger.

“Just...you, you know—” Potter turned forward, letting his head drop,\ and starting to rock back onto his finger. The sight had Draco closing his eyes against the persistent throbbing between his legs. “—what you’re doing. Just… _oh god_ ! Shit. _Malfoy_. Just do it. Do what you want. I trust you.”

A weak sound slipped free from Draco before he even realised he’d made it. Shivering, he quickly brought a second finger to that tight clench and began working it in, hoping Potter hadn’t heard that sound.

Potter shouldn’t trust him.

He could, of course. Draco would never abuse a person in his bed, but Merlin, Potter shouldn’t trust him when they’d hardly talked for years, and had hated each other for most of their lives.

His second finger was in almost before he realised, but Potter was shuddering and clenching down hard.

“Relax,” Draco whispered, kissing between his shoulder blades again.

Like the first time, his words had an immediate effect. Potter relaxed, and then continued to rock back onto his fingers. He was moaning and gasping. He kept saying Draco’s name.

Draco ached to give him release. He wanted to take his cock in hand and let him come. But he was so ready himself, he wouldn’t survive waiting to see if Potter could get hard again.

“You are so stunning like this,” he found himself saying, as he rested his forehead between Potter’s shoulder blades and gently opened him with his fingers. “Fuck, Potter. Why are you letting me be the first to see this?”

He was the first to see it. Biting his lip, he started to work a third finger in. He needed to be inside him. It was a desperation. He’d never wanted it so badly before. No one affected him the way Potter was and had been doing all night.

Harry Potter was underneath him, giving over his virginity like it was nothing.

“Please tell me I’m close to ready!” Potter sobbed. “I need to come. Fuck. _Malfoy, please_.”

Shivering, Draco closed his eyes. “Not yet,” he said, and kissed Potter’s back again.

Merlin, as much as he wanted to sink into him, he wasn’t ready, and he wanted this to be the best fuck of Potter’s life. He wanted no one to surpass him. He wanted to always be the first person Potter thought of when he tried to have sex. It needed to be perfect.

“I knew...knew it would be this...good, but...fuck... _Malfoy_!”

Shuddering, Draco gave up, he slipped his fingers free, ignoring Potter’s pitiful whining sound from the loss, and coated his cock with lubricant.

It was not going to be anywhere near close to the fuck he wanted to give him. Potter would come too soon. He was going to come too soon. He’d ruined his chance at being his best fuck because he had been so stupidly unprepared for Potter.

At least he’d still always be his first.

When Potter felt the first brush or Draco’s cock against his entrance, he turned and looked over his shoulder, arms trembling as he held himself up.

“ _Yes_ ,” he breathed, meeting his eyes.

Draco shivered and fought to stay calm as he eased into him with gentle, slow, minute thrusts. Potter tensed and relaxed around his cock in turns, his body shuddering and shaking, his breathing ragged.

“You okay?”

Potter only hummed in reply as Draco finally stopped, fully sheathed. The heat of Potter’s arse was overwhelming. Draco had never been so close to coming so soon. He smoothed his hands over Potter’s back and tried to ignore how very intimate it was, that their eyes had been locked the entire time he’d eased into him, and were still locked now.

“I’m so close,” Potter murmured.

Draco shivered as Potter clenched around him, relaxed, and then clenched again harder, as if testing the feel of his cock.

“Stop that,” he moaned.

Potter made a breathless, amused sound, and let his head turn and fall again with a groan. Draco reached forward and rubbed his neck.

“Stop looking back,” he said, shaking his head and fighting to focus on his words and not on the searing, tight heat around his cock.

“I want to watch.”

Draco’s breath caught. Then, without even thinking, he started easing out of him. Potter moaned, and turned to watch again. Only Draco didn’t thrust back in, and Potter made a weak, desperate sound and met his gaze.

“On your back then,” Draco murmured, that stupid, annoying urge to be nice rising in his chest again. “It’s your first time. You can have whatever you want.”

Potter closed his eyes a moment, and then turned over. Draco grabbed a pillow, and had him lift his arse to put it underneath his lower back.

“That’s going to get gross.”

“That’s what magic is for, idiot.”

Draco was starting to press back into him again, when Potter suddenly asked him to stop. Draco froze, and checked his expression carefully. No pain. No fear. Nervousness. Merlin, what was the git going to do now?

“I know this is a one-time thing,” Potter said, still breathing heavily. “We both only want that. But...I want to use first names. For this.”

Draco swallowed and fought to find words. Face to face. Using given names. Too intimate. Wrong. He had to put a stop to that. It was meant to be a casual fuck. Ridding Potter of his pesky virginity. A last resort because no one else kept his cock hard.

“It’s my first time,” Potter said, watching him warily. “You said I can have whatever I want. Give me what I want.”

Draco shivered, and then nodded. “Fine. Harry.”

Potter bit his lip. “Thank you, Draco.”

They stared at each other for another moment.

“Can I fuck you now? Or are we still being sentimental?”

Potter rolled his eyes, and then made a ‘get to it then’ gesture. Draco hesitated for just a moment, and then pressed back inside him. Potter’s head fell back, a low groan breaking free from the throat now openly on display. Shuddering through an impressive throb that seemed to shake his whole body, Draco paused and closed his eyes.

“I’m fine, it doesn’t hurt. Move!”

Draco cracked his eyes open to see Potter looking annoyed. Sweat was breaking out over him, and he was clutching the sheets tightly. It only made Draco’s cock ache more, and he was dangerously close to coming. He knew his face would be red. His chest would be red. He was so angry, frustrated. Embarrassed.

“I need a moment,” he said, closing his eyes again. He hated to admit it, but he knew Potter. The git would keep bugging him until he got a reason for the pause. Irritating bloody bastard. He hadn’t needed a breather during sex since the first few times he’d topped.

Potter made that breathless laughing sound again, and Draco opened his eyes to glare at him. Or he tried to. He could feel that his face wasn’t cooperating.

“I’m probably going to come the moment my cock is touched,” Potter said, still amused and breathless. His voice was making Draco’s body shake. “I don’t think it matters now, whether this is over quickly.”

“It matters to me!” Draco hissed, punctuating the phrase by rocking his hips.

Potter moaned, and his eyes slid half shut. “Fuck, Draco,” he gasped, as Draco couldn’t help but thrust again, and again. “Get...over yourself! Are you...that obsessed...with perfection?”

Draco groaned. That one thrust was a mistake. He couldn’t stop now. Potter was so hot, and tight, and making those sounds, and that face.

“I couldn't—” Potter’s hands flew to Draco’s arms where he was supporting himself. His grip was tight, and he was arching his back. “—even stay hard...with anyone...anyone else!”

“Shut up!” Draco moaned. Merlin, he felt like he was on fire. How could Potter be so amazing in bed? He was a fucking virgin, and he was destroying Draco.

“I’ve…God, _Draco_! I’ve come twice...already,” Potter gasped. He could barely speak, but he kept trying. Draco just wanted to lean forward and kiss him, but he didn’t want to risk his body touching Potter’s cock and making him come. He had no doubt the sensation of Potter’s orgasm would tip him over the edge as well. Far too soon. “You’ve...you’ve already...won.”

Draco made an embarrassing sound, as Potter rocked up into his next thrust.

“Fuck, Harry, stop talking! You...fucking...git!”

Potter laughed that breathless laugh again, and Draco almost cried as he came, hard, and blinding. He closed his eyes, and struggled to hold himself up from the strength of it.

“Draco, you...bossy...fuck!”

And then Potter was clenching around him, erratically, strongly. He managed to tear his eyes open, to see Potter had taken his own cock in hand to come with him. His head was tossed back, neck tense. He was moaning, face contorted in pleasurable agony. But he was looking at Draco as he leaned over him.

Draco couldn’t look away as they moaned and came down together.

They were both sweating disgustingly, and Draco’s arms were shaking badly. He finally gave up, and let himself fall to the side. Potter made a soft, displeased sound as soon as Draco’s cock slid out of him, but otherwise didn’t move or speak.

Draco lay back, still panting, and tried to regain his ability to speak. It had been over far too soon. It was quick, and basic. But fuck. That had been the best fuck of his life. The whole night had been the best sexual experience of his life.

With Harry fucking Potter.

Insatiable, virginal, confident Harry fucking Potter.

“If you get hard again, I’m going to hex you,” he muttered, wiping the sweat off his face.

Potter laughed that horrible, irritating, breath-taking laugh again. Draco just wanted to hit him.

“You’d probably sink to your knees for me,” Potter said, all cocky arrogance.

Draco swallowed and tried to think of something scathing to say. His brain hadn’t quite recovered from how Potter had looked as he’d come underneath him, _around_ him. The git was right. He would. And then Potter would never look down at someone else and not remember his face instead.

“Fucking slut.”

“Weak,” Potter said, the smirk in his voice obvious. He groaned, rolling onto his side and looking at Draco.

Checking his face, Draco couldn't help but ask, “You alright?”

Potter’s teasing expression softened. “Yeah.”

Draco ran his eyes down the length of Potter’s body. He was still a mess of sweat and ejaculate. It made Draco’s oversensitive cock ache a bit to look at him. Who would have thought?

When he brought his gaze back up again, Potter was looking satisfied, but sleepy.

“Oi!” Draco snapped, giving his cheek a little slap. “Wake up! I didn’t say you could spend the night!”

Potter chuckled that same breathless, amused sound, and batted his hand away. “Sod off,” he muttered. “You can just lie there and think about what you’d done. You’ve exhausted me. Fuck. I could sleep for days.”

“ _I’ve_ exhausted _you_!” Draco winced at the sound of his own voice, a little too high pitched. Giving away a little too much. He’d gone from having all the power to none at all.

How had he expected anything different from Potter?

Potter’s eyes had closed, but he cracked one open and gave him a crooked grin. “You’re a nasty, irritating, stuck-up git, Draco Malfoy,” he said. “But you are absolutely, surprisingly, fantastic in bed.”

Draco glared at him. The compliment made him want to slap the git. Surprising? What had he expected? A lousy shag? Regardless, it was an empty compliment.

“You don’t even know any better,” he said instead, watching Potter’s eye droop again, and his breathing even out. He himself was ready to pass out.

“If I know you like I think I do,” Potter murmured, not opening his eyes, still sprawled on his side, still filthy, “you would have been trying to give me the best shag of my life. Everything’s a fucking competition to you, Draco.”

“My cock isn’t inside you anymore,” Draco said, irritated beyond belief that Potter could see through him so easily. “It’s ‘Malfoy’ now.”

“Still feel you there though,” Potter said, like a soft, pleased exhalation.

Draco closed his eyes against a surge of heat that made his poor cock ache painfully.

Harry fucking Potter.

 

* * *

 

Draco woke to an arm over his waist, fingers toying and rubbing his nipple, and a hot mouth wreaking havoc on his neck. Inhaling sharply, he shifted and felt a hard cock press against him.

“Fucking hell, Potter,” he tried to snap. It came out as a moan, as Potter gently scraped a blunt nail over his nipple.

“Morning.”

“Morning? Are you fucking kidding me? How are you hard again?” Draco groaned, hating himself for arching his back and pushing his neck into better reach for Potter’s mouth. A quick glance at the clock showed it was only just after ten. They probably hadn’t had more than six hours of sleep.

“What’s the matter, Malfoy?” Potter asked, slipping his hand lower. Draco made a weak sound, utterly surprised when Potter’s hand didn’t hurt, but sent a rush of heat through him instead. “So are you.”

“You insatiable prick!”

“Do you want me to stop?” Potter asked, pressing hot open mouthed kisses to his neck, starting to stroke him slowly.

Draco wanted to say yes, just to spite the bastard, but he could only turn his head, grab Potter’s hair, and yank him into an awkwardly angled kiss. Infuriatingly arousing man.

Potter made a pleased sound, and thumbed at the head of his cock. Draco pulled away with a hiss, turning his head back and pressing it into his pillow with a moan. The longer Potter touched him, the more sensitive his cock was becoming, and he winced as it got painful.

“Fuck! Stop,” he said.

Potter stopped and leaned over him to look at his face. “Sorry, was that...I couldn’t help myself. You were lying there and you looked so...and I was remembering, and—”

“For fucks sake!” Draco hissed. “Calm down! I came three times last night. I’m sensitive. Where’s the fucking lube?”

“I don’t know why I’m so surprised you’re a pissy little shit in bed,” Potter muttered, as he shuffled around trying to find it in the sheets.

“Magic, Potter!” Draco snapped. “You’re a fucking wizard, try to act like one!”

“Wow, you are cranky in the morning,” Potter muttered, before summoning the pot of lubricant.

Draco was about to snap at him again, when a slickened hand was sliding over his cock, and he arched his back instead. Potter straddled his thighs, and stroked him slowly with a gentle grip.

The look on Potter’s face was warm amusement, naked arousal. Draco licked his lips and tried sit up. Potter pushed him back down. The motion sent a surge of heat through him, how casually confident Potter was. The git had only just lost his bloody virginity, and now he was waking Draco up with touches and kisses, and effortlessly wanking him to perfection.

Toes curling, Draco thrust into his hand. “Well, if you wanted to worship me, you should have said.”

Potter ran and appreciative gaze over him, and shrugged. “You hardly need the stroke to your ego, you arrogant twat, but after last night…”

Draco swallowed, letting slip moans he might have normally kept contained. Thinking of last night made his whole body throb with heat. Nothing like he’d expected. Better than he’d ever had.

Fucking Potter.

“After the shag of your life, you mean?” he quipped, watching Potter’s hand slide and twist and grip. He’d picked that up easily enough. But then, with all those failed encounters, he probably was a champion wanker.

“Did I thank you for that?” Potter asked, his tone dropping to a level Draco didn’t like.

“Don’t get sentimental,” Draco drawled, looking up from the hand on his cock to the warm look on Potter’s face. “I’ll kick you out and wank myself.”

Potter didn’t respond, but brought his other hand to Draco’s inner thigh. “Can I...can I put…” He bit his lip and raised an eyebrow.

Draco raised one right back. “I thought you were a Gryffindor?” he quipped. “Did you use up all your confidence asking to suck my cock last night? Pity.”

Potter’s face twisted into a scowl. “I want to finger you.”

“Manners, Potter.”

Seeing Potter’s jaw clench made Draco’s cock throb. He did so love to irritate the git. But his stomach twisted a little uneasily. It had been a long time since he’d let anyone fuck him. He wasn’t sure he wanted it to go there. Fingers were one thing, but…

“Can I stick a finger up your bum, _please_ , Malfoy,” Potter said, his voice dripping with false politeness.

“What do you get out of it?” Draco asked, knocking away the hand still holding him down and sitting up. Potter’s grip on his cock tightened, and he gasped and almost fell back down.

“Watching you,” Potter murmured, pulling him into a kiss that was reminiscent of his awful kissing at the start of last night.

Draco gripped his jaw, and pushed his head back. “I know I showed you how to kiss better than that last night.”

“You showed me a lot of things last night,” Potter said, not moving anything except that hand on Draco’s cock, still stroking. If it wasn’t so sensitive from the night before, he was ashamed to realise he probably would have come already.

“What do you want to do to me?” he asked, shivering as Potter thumbed at the head of his cock, and making a pitiful, weak sound at how it hurt and felt fantastic at the same time.

“I only want to finger you while you come,” Potter said, meeting his eyes and looking nervous. “I’m not...after last night...it’s all a bit—”

“What did I tell you about calming down?” Draco chided, pushing Potter off him and mourning the loss of his hand. “Sit against the headboard. You don’t have to feel bad that you don’t feel like fucking me. I didn’t say I wanted you to.”

Merlin. Potter was so confident one moment, and then suddenly so nervous and anxious the next. It was strange, that Draco had to go between their normal selves, taunting, insulting, and then being gentle with him, being considerate of his inexperience, so he didn’t push him too far and make him shut down. And yet...it wasn’t hard at all. It was easy.

Summoning Potter’s wand, from wherever it had ended up, he pressed it into Potter’s hands, along with the lube. He straddled his lap and kissed him before he could say something stupid. Potter kissed back far better than before, and Draco pulled back with a scowl.

“Were you kissing terribly on purpose?”

Potter didn’t answer him, he was looking down. Draco followed his eyes. His cock was an angry red, and he grimaced at that, but watched as Potter slid a hand under him. He’d tossed his wand aside, and when the cleaning charm shivered through him, Draco want to hit him.

It had taken him weeks to master that spell to the point of using it wandlessly. Even then, he still preferred to use his wand. Did Potter have to be so bloody good at everything?

Potter’s own cock was still hard, but Draco very pointedly put his hands on Potter’s shoulders. He already knew what he wanted to do about that after.

The first finger went in rather easy, and Draco sighed and guided Potter’s mouth to his neck. He was sure it was already covered in marks, a few more before he healed them would hardly matter. Potter bit him again, but gentler than the time Draco had scolded him for. Satisfaction spread through Draco at that. There was something about Potter incorporating and following his words that just made him shiver with heat.

Potter found his prostate easily. No surprise. But by the time he started to work a second finger in, he’d teased him to incoherency.

“I should…have...Merlin, there!”

Potter chuckled into his neck, and thrust his fingers in harder. His aim was unerring. His fingers curving perfectly.

“Should have known!” Draco continued, gasping and clutching at Potter’s shoulders. “Fucking... _fuck!_ Tease!”

His cock was aching something fierce, but Potter hadn’t touched it again, and Draco was desperate to do it himself, but somehow managed to hold back. He just gripped Potter’s shoulders harder.

At some point, he’d started rocking his hips, until he was thrusting uncontrollably. Potter stilled his hand, and Draco forgot to care what it looked like, as he rode Potter’s fingers.

He could be riding his cock, and that idea was far less worrying than he had thought earlier.

“Are you…”

Draco squeezed his eyes shut, gasping and arching his back as he fucked Potter’s fingers.

“What?” Potter asked, his voice low, rough. Draco shivered and cracked his eyes open enough to see the way Potter was watching him. Eyes wide, mouth open, cheeks flushed.

“Waiting for me to...to ask for…”

Potter chuckled. Then his hand, freshly slickened, was on Draco’s cock. Like he really had been waiting. Bastard.

Whining pitifully, Draco almost started crying. It hurt, but it also felt so good. He hadn’t been that sensitive in so long. He hadn’t come so many times in one night in so long.

It took four strokes, and then he was coming. Whimpering, he pulled Potter’s hand away, and rode it out on his fingers. The sounds he made were embarrassing to his ears, but he couldn’t stop making them. When he’d stilled, his legs were burning and he slumped against Potter, his face resting against his collarbone, hands sliding off his shoulders to hang limp by his sides. If Potter said anything, he couldn’t hear it over the sound of his own gasping breaths.

Potter’s arms encircled him, and the wet smear across his back made him want to snap at Potter, or hit him. But all he could do was make a sound that was nothing like what he’d intended it to be, and keep breathing. With his eyes closed, and suddenly so tired he might as well have not slept, he almost dozed off. He wasn’t used to coming so many times. It was amazing, but it was so...overwhelming.

Fucking Potter.

One arm slid off his back, and then Potter’s breathing hitched. Draco managed to crack an eye open, to see Potter was fisting his cock between them.

“Stop,” he said, trying to push himself up so he wasn’t slumped against him. “I want to—”

“No,” Potter moaned. “I’m...just let me...you’re exhausted.”

Draco scowled, but didn’t reply as he watched Potter’s hand slide over his cock. He’d wanted to blow him. But Potter was probably right. It would only be a matter of moments of that before Potter would come, going by how quick he was all the other times. He’d need to get his mouth on him before he got too hard to make it worth it.

“I’m not usually like this,” he found himself saying, defensively.

“Don’t care,” Potter gasped. His free hand was grabbing at Draco’s back, and he was moaning in that same attractive, unrestrained, way of his. “I...I like you like...like…like this…”

Draco wanted to hate the way some of Potter’s ejaculate landed on him, even hitting his face, but feeling the vibration of his moans as he came, feeling that hand spasm on his back? Those were far more important details to focus on.

Their fourth orgasm together. Four. _Sweet Merlin_. He just wanted to sleep again.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered, turning his face into the base of Potter’s throat. He was sweaty, and he smelled rather terrible. But he was warm and still gasping. His gasps had a slight moan to them, and Draco felt the sound right down to his bones.

“Sod off.”

“Git.”

“Wanker.”

Not for at least two days.

“If you get hard again, I will physically hurt you.”

“I’d like to see you try in the state you’re in.”

Shame curled through Draco’s gut. How had he so thoroughly lost control of the situation with Potter? His expectations, formed from weeks of watching Potter in bars, and that first orgasm they’d shared, had been so completely wrong. Not just wrong. Utterly inadequate.

When he didn’t reply, Potter didn’t say anything further. He just muttered a cleaning spell or two and slid down the bed. Draco mumbled into his neck at the motion, but settled again.

If Potter came anywhere near him with an erection when they woke up again, he was going to make him regret it.

 

* * *

 

“Piss off!”

Laughed sounded from near him, and hands shook him again. Whining, he tried to slap at them.

“What?”

“I have to go now.”

“Go then,” Draco grumbled, rubbing his face deeper into his pillow.

There was another low chuckle, and then a hand was skimming over his body. He swatted at that too.

Silence, and then a sigh. “Thank you...Draco.” Soft, like an exhalation.

Draco cracked an eye open to see that Potter was fully dressed and leaning over him.

He hadn’t expected Potter to thank him, and could think of no words. No good words.

“Someone had to do it. You were getting incredibly pathetic.”

Potter shook his head, making another amused sound. “Well, I’m—”

“I’m exceptionally good at wandless stinging jinxes,” Draco interrupted, trying to fend off the incoming sentimentality. “Go ahead and tell me you’re glad it was me. I dare you.”

Potter stared at him, his jaw tensing, that familiar stubborn expression forming on his face.

“I’m glad it was you.”

Draco got him on the side of his arse, and would treasure Potter’s yelp for a long time to come.

**End.**

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. I'm the only one responsible for this ridiculous 20k of ridiculous silly smut lol
> 
> I realised I hadn't written penetrative sex in months, wondered if I still could. This happened. Also, first time writing rimming from the perspective of the giver. Hope it's okay!
> 
> Please do not ask for more in the comments, this is a completed work.


End file.
